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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001852">but then again, it's just me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhennie/pseuds/zhennie'>zhennie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A3! (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, M/M, Self-Doubt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:47:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhennie/pseuds/zhennie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Misumi-kun,” Izumi repeats, her voice gentle, and she asks, “are you happy?” Misumi is silent. </p>
<p>“It’s natural to wonder about what might have been,” she says, “if you should have done this, or that. You stopped acting because it was the right decision for you at that time. That doesn’t mean that it will be the right decision for you forever. You might decide that you do want to start again, or do something else. But whatever you decide, you should do it because you want to. Because it will make you happy.” </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ikaruga Misumi/Miyoshi Kazunari</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>but then again, it's just me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/spokl/gifts">spokl</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kazu is on the phone when Misumi comes home, having what is clearly a serious discussion with a very important person, but he still manages to flash Misumi a bright grin as he enters their apartment, a triangle smile that starts with his happy eyes and ends with his smiling mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misumi likes Kazu best when he’s smiling that triangle smile--especially as it slides off his face and his attention returns to the person on the other end of the phone. He’s polite, talking with the kind of formality that to this day, Misumi can’t help but associate with his childhood. But those times are long in the past, he thinks as he unpacks the groceries, and there’s no longer that sense of distance between Misumi and his family anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh?” Kazu’s raised voice makes Misumi crane his neck out from the kitchen, but Kazu doesn’t notice, focused solely on the call, his face stunned--but not unpleasantly so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, yes,” Kazu says, head bowing with every affirmative, and he tilts his head back, eyes squeezing shut. Slowly, another smile spreads over his face, not the triangle smile, but something equally as joyful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you very much,” Kazu says, “I’m honored. Yes, yes, I’ll confirm those dates with you separately. Yes. Thank you.” Slowly, the phone lowers from his ear, a faint beep indicating that the other party had hung up, and Kazu’s grin grows, as he opens his eyes and sees Misumi standing there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ne, ne,” Misumi says, his own eyes sparkling, a smile spreading over his face as well, “did something good happen, Kazu?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sumi,” Kazu says, “they’re gonna show my work! I’m gonna have an exhibition in a gallery! Isn’t that totes cool?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow!” Sumi says, and he bounds out into the living room, throwing himself at Kazu for a hug that the other eagerly accepts, “congratulations, Kazu!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks!” Kazu laughs into Misumi’s neck as his arms come around him, squeezing, “oh man, I was so nervous the whole time. I was so sure they were gonna reject me again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kazu is su-per talented,” Misumi replies firmly, giving Kazu a tight hug in return. Kazu’s art is beautiful. Everyone should love Kazu’s art. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Sumi,” Kazu replies, “ahh, I can’t believe it. I gotta tell everyone!” He wiggles, and Misumi laughs as he pulls back, catching Kazu’s left hand between his. Kazu, used to this, taps at his phone with one hand, and Misumi can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket as Kazu sends the news, and as it continues to vibrate with what he assumes are congratulations from their group chat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is gonna change everything,” Kazu says, lowering his phone to look at Misumi, “This is the chance I’ve been waiting for.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Misumi replies firmly, squeezing Kazu’s hand, “you should take this chance, Kazu. I’ll support you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kazu squeezes Misumi’s hand back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” Madoka says, blinking, “that’s a very well-known art gallery. Many of the artists who have displayed there have gone on to have successful careers.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re sitting outside, soaking up the end of summer. Madoka looks much more relaxed than he did when Misumi had rang his doorbell earlier, tipped off by a text from Masumi that Madoka may have been in need of a break. Halfway through a pitcher of iced tea, Madoka is thoughtful as he considers Misumi’s words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Misumi says, “Kazu should have a successful career. He should show lots of people his art, just like you get to show lots of people your plays.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure that’s what he wants too,” Madoka says, “Miyoshi-san is talented. I’m glad he’s getting to show his work.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should come see it!” Misumi says, “I’ll send you a ticket.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Madoka replies, easily, “and I’ll send you two tickets for this new play--if I ever finish it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will,” Misumi says confidently, “Madoka always writes great plays!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about you, Nii-san?” Madoka asks, “you’ve told me all about what Miyoshi-san is doing, but you haven’t told me about how you’re doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t I?” Misumi asks, tilting his head, “mmmm...oh! I helped out the Director this week with choreography. And Tenma was back in town so we went out to lunch together. I found a really good triangle while I was out grocery shopping. I’ll take you to see it next time!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Nii-san,” Madoka says, and he hesitates, before asking slowly, “Nii-san, are you happy?” Misumi frowns at that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I am,” he says, “why wouldn’t I be happy? I have you, and Kazu, and all my friends.” His life is filled with constant joys, big and little, and sometimes he thinks he doesn’t have time to be sad. It’s not like before, when he was alone, or unwanted, told he was useless and left behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” Madoka says, and then gives a little laugh,  “good, I’m glad, Nii-san.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should be happy too, Madoka,” Misumi says confidently, “you’re a good writer. Whatever’s keeping you from finishing this play, you’ll get through it. And if not, I’ll bring you triangles until you do.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...thank you, Nii-san,” Madoka says, and his fingers curl around an invisible pen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kumon! Muku!” Misumi waves at them as he catches sight of them at the entrance of the gallery.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sumi-san!” Kumon calls happily. They high five, before performing a complicated secret handshake that they’d created one evening when they’d still been roommates at Mankai.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Misumi-san,” Muku greets as well, his face bright and rosy, “it’s so good to see you. And you too, Kazu-kun! Congratulations!” The last time Misumi saw Muku was at a bar with Itaru and Chikage, just out of the first project he had led and looking extremely haggard and down. Misumi is glad to see that Muku has recovered since then, and pats his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, congratulations!” Kumon adds, “you’re so super talented and cool, Kazu-san!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, am I? Haha, thanks, Kumopi, Mukkun!” Kazu’s smile is dazzling--he’s been smiling all evening, from when he had led Misumi into the gallery with their fingers intertwined, and walked him around to each piece, talking rapidly about each painting, to when guests had started to arrive, and begun to heap praise upon him, each exclamation seeming to lift Kazu higher and higher. Madoka had been by, earlier, and Kazu’s parents and sisters as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are Tenma-san and Yuki here yet?” Muku asks, looking around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep, they just got here too,” Misumi says, as Kazu puts a hand on Misumi’s back, gently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sumi, is it okay if I leave you here with Mukkun and Kumopi? There’s someone I need to talk to over there,” he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm, sure!” Sumi replies, and Kazu leans over, pressing his lips to Misumi’s temple before he slips away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s go see Kazu-san’s paintings!” Kumon says, grabbing Muku and Sumi’s arms to pull them along, “this is so awesome!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misumi loves Kazu’s paintings. He loves watching the process, Kazu sitting in the second bedroom of their apartment that they’d designated for his workspace, the morning light spilling into through the window and falling across his hands as they move across the canvas, his hands strong and certain. Kazu has steady hands, firm hands that hold his tools confidently, his phone camera steadily, and Misumi, preciously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Each painting Kazu creates is a little bit of himself poured out into the world, and while Misumi may not know the theory behind the art, he knows the story, and knows exactly what Kazu had done to bring it into being. He can’t give the same explanations Kazu gives to the people who will raise his name and reputation--but then again, he doesn’t need to, not when he’s with Kumon and Muku, and Tenma and Yuki, the Summer Troupe who loves Kazu just as much as Misumi does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is my favorite,” Misumi says from the lead. It’s full of triangles, all of which he had traced out after it had finished drying, much to his and Kazu’s delight, but that’s not why it’s Misumi’s favorite. He loves the colors, the way they spread across the page. It fills him with nostalgia for the end of summer, for the fireworks they would always play with together, in the days when they were young.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not bad,” Yuki says, but the way one side of his mouth is tilting up, belaying his casual words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kazunari’s really done well, hasn’t he?” Temna adds, his eyes flicking from one side of the canvas to the other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course he has,” Yuki replies easily, “he’s not you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi!” Tenma scowls, as Misumi giggles. Tenma’s face darkens, and he open his mouth to retort, but is interrupted by Muku’s surprised ‘Oh!’ that makes all of them turn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Muku bows at the woman who is with Kazu, who looks just as surprised to see Muku as Muku is to see her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yamada-san, what a surprise,” Muku says, “I didn’t know you were interested in art.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Sakisaka-san,” the woman, Yamada, replies, “what a nice surprise to see you here as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kazunari-san is a dear friend of mine,” Muku says, “we used to be roommates. I came to support him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, is that so?” Yamada says, looking at Kazu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Kazu confirms, “we used to belong to a theater company together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, how nice,” Yamada says, “it’s nice that you two have kept in touch.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yamada-san’s company and mine just finished a project together,” Muku explains, glancing at Kazu and then back at the rest of them, “it was a very important project, and I’m glad it went smoothly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, are these all also your friends, Miyoshi-san?” Yamada asks, and Kazu nods, his arm outstretching to gesture to them all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is Sumeragi Tenma,” Kazu says, and Tenma gives a little smirk and a bow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Sumeragi-san!” Yamada says, “I heard you were busy filming in Australia.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am, but I flew back just for tonight to support Kazunari,” Tenma says, “I’m sure there will be more nights like this in the future, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss the first one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t say that, Tenten!” Kazu says, “you’re embarrassing me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be so modest, Miyoshi-san,” Yamada says, “you’re a young talent with a great future. Just like Rurikawa Yuki-san, here. I don’t need an introduction to know who you are, Rurikawa-san. After your cover on VW magazine, I’m sure all of Japan is talking about you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, thank you very much,” Yuki says, “Kazunari has always been enthusiastic about my work, so I guess I’m just returning the favor.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And this is Hyodo Kumon,” Kazu says, “the newest pitcher for the Tiggers.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Tiggers…oh, yes, didn’t you all go overseas to play, recently?” Yamada asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but it was just an exhibition match,” Kumon says, “just for training and the like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still, to be playing on that level is extraordinary, I’ll root for you next time the Tiggers play, Hyodo-san,” Yamada says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, thank you!” Kumon says, with a deep bow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And this is Ikaruga Misumi,” Kazu finishes, giving Sumi a soft smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nice to meet you, Yamada-san,” Misumi says, giving his own bow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You as well, Ikaruga-san,” Yamada says, “and what do you do?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah…” Misumi says, “this and that? Nothing in particular!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be modest, Ikaruga-san. I recognize that name as well. Could you be related to Ikaruga Hakkaku-san, the playwright? I hear his grandson is as talented a writer as his grandfather,” Yamada says, with an air of expectation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re thinking of my little brother, Madoka,” Misumi replies, with something twisting a little inside him that he pushes away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Yamada gives a little laugh, as she turns to Kazu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really, Miyoshi-san,” she says, “I was beginning to get a complex from how accomplished all your friends are.” There’s something about the way she says that that makes something prick in the back of Misumi’s mind--a once familiar feeling that he had forgotten, only for it to reemerge, like a fault line which, under pressure, might break again. Misumi thinks he hears someone--Yuki?--inhale, sharp and out of time, a two count where it should have been a perfect three. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re all precious people to me,” Kazu says, his voice light but firm, “why don’t I show you the next piece, Yamada-san?” He leads her off, leaving the rest of them there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Misumi,” Tenma says, and Misumi looks up, to see that the rest of them have circled around him--like a circle of protection, somehow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah--” Misumi says, and pushes a smile onto his face, “let’s go get some snacks, okay? There are these really nice triangle ones!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one ever told Misumi, in so many words, that he was a failure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was just something that had eventually become a fact, after it had sat unsaid between the lines of a manuscript, the way everything else sat in that household. It was the way that one day, his father had stopped looking at him, and began looking over him at Madoka, and the way that one day, Madoka had stopped meeting his gaze. Misumi couldn’t help but be aware of the gap between the two of them, a wide chasm that he had poured his childhood into without response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Madoka was gifted, and Misumi was useless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s been a long time since he’d broken through that false narrative, since their whole family had woken up and Madoka had started looking at him again. But it’s like a loose thread that Misumi can’t help but pick at, watching it grow and grow, until the whole thing is unravelled before his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It hurts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Summer Troupe stays with him for the rest of the evening, even though Misumi can hear Yuki’s phone buzzing incessantly, and catches Muku yawning. But when he frowns at them, they frown back, and Tenma is there to ruffle his hair, or Kumon is tugging insistently at his sleeve to catch his attention, and Misumi feels lucky, to have friends like these. They stay with him until the party has died down, and it’s mostly just the five of them crowded onto a gallery bench, talking nonsense at each other and breaking into giggles, feeling like kids back at Mankai again, rather than adults with their own lives and careers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa, you guys are still here!” Kazu says, much more relaxed now that the night is over as he approaches them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, did you think we were just gonna leave without telling you?” Yuki raises an eyebrow, and Kazu laughs, undeterred. </span>
  <span></span>
    <br/>
  
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Any room for me?” Kazu asks instead, looking at the bench, already full to bursting with Summer Troupe members. Misumi opens his arms, and looks up expectantly at Kazu, who grins back as he crosses the last bit of distance to sit in Misumi’s lap. Misumi’s arms come around to hold Kazu, eyes closing at his warmth, and leans in, pressing his cheek against Kazu’s back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kazu smells like fresh laundry and ink, like Misumi’s favorite kind of Saturday morning, where they have nowhere to be and nothing to do but sleep in. Misumi would always wake up earlier on days like that, but would lay there, still, as he watched Kazu’s sleeping face--his lips, slightly parted, his eyelashes pressed gently against his cheeks. He loves those mornings the same way he loves Kazu. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“--it’s not totally set yet, though,” Kazu is saying, and Misumi can hear his words rumbling through where he has his face pressed into his back, “but they seemed pretty excited about the idea?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm?” Misumi says, and Kazu twists a little, trying to see him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sumi, did you fall asleep?” Kazu asks, with a little laugh in his voice, before he glances away, up at the big clock hanging from one of the walls, “ah, it is pretty late, isn’t it? Sorry for keeping you all! We should go home.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not like we get that many chances to see each other that often anymore, anyways,” Tenma says, as they begin the task of untangling their limbs, “it’s nice to have an excuse to--ouch, Yuki, did you just scratch me?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, they right themselves, and go their separate ways. Misumi knows that they can LIME each other at any time, or make plans to see each other again, but it’s times like these he really misses living at Mankai with his friends. But he loves living with Kazu, filling their apartment with all sorts of interesting triangles and Kazu’s art, not only his paintings, but everything else he’s worked on as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for coming today, Sumi,” Kazu says, squeezing his hand as they walk home together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to see Kazu’s art,” Misumi replies, “it’s my favorite.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should make something for you,” Kazu says, half to himself, “maybe another painting? Or maybe….” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever Kazu wants to make me,” Misumi replies easily, letting their hands swing, “but make sure it has lots of triangles in it.” Kazu laughs, turning to flash a triangle smile at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Kazu says with a wink, “Got it.” He lets them lapse into silence, before asking, suddenly, “Sumi, are you happy?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ne?” Misumi asks, “of course I am. You make me happy, Kazu.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” Kazu says, exhaling, “and you’ll tell me, right? If you’re not happy?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ka~zu,” Misumi says, bumping him lightly with his hip, “I’m happy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, I got it!” Kazu says, bumping Misumi back, before stopping them to pull Misumi close, and press his lips to his forehead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m happy too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something changes, after that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it’s just as Madoka said--showing at that gallery was just what was needed to propel Kazu’s career forward. Misumi’s life goes on as normal--he goes over to Kumon and Azami’s apartment, and spends the day as Azami’s makeup test face, finds at least three new triangles at the park, and meets up with Hisoka to take care of and play with the neighborhood cats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But what’s different is how, when MIsumi comes back to the apartment and calls out ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m home!</span>
  </em>
  <span>’, Kazu isn’t there to welcome him back. Kazu is usually gone before Misumi wakes up now, and doesn’t get home until after he’s fallen asleep, no matter how hard Misumi tries to stay up and wait for him. The only sign that Kazu is coming back at all are the little doodles he leaves Misumi--Sankaku-sans jumping around sticky notes on their bathroom mirror, kitchen counter, even one tucked into his pocket, one day. And Misumi is....</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he doesn’t think it’s fair to say he’s lonely. After all, he still has Madoka, and the cats, and all his friends from Summer Troupe and Mankai Company who love to see and play with him. But still, the absence of Kazu sticks with Misumi--it’s not home if Kazu’s not there with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misumi wonders if he’s the only one feeling this way. Kazu is meeting so many new people, and doing so many new things. Misumi is proud of him, no doubt. He can identify that feeling within his chest, like the fizzy champagne they had sipped together on their first anniversary. It’s what’s layered under it that Misumi can’t quite identify. He would almost call it fear, but it can’t be fear. Fear is the feeling of coming home and wondering if this time, he really will become an invisible person. Fear is the feeling that hangs in the air, like anticipation, when he says someone’s name, and wonders if they will look at him or through him. This can’t be fear, because Kazu would never do either of those things to him. Kazu is kind. Kazu loves him. Even before they’d been lovers, before they’d been friends, Kazu had looked right at Sumi, and smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sumi, you okay?” Kazu peers down at Misumi, who is sprawled out upside down on the couch, and Misumi blinks, before letting out a yell that startles both of them. Kazu jumps back as Misumi tries to right himself, tilting off the couch, but landing upright thanks to quick reflexes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kazu!” Misumi yells, before leaping up and throwing himself at Kazu, who catches him, if stumbling back a few steps at Misumi’s weight. Kazu laughs, his smile wide and open, his eyes smiling with the force of his laughter, and Misumi is buoyed by that expression, his own mouth beaming in return. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re back!” Misumi says, and he adds, before he can think about it, “I haven’t seen you in forever, Kazu!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, that’s true, isn't it? Sorry, sorry,” Kazu says, pushing Misumi’s bangs out of his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been working hard,” Misumi replies, his fingers grasping at Kazu’s shirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It won’t be for much longer, I promise,” Kazu says, “just gotta ride the wave while I’m still popular, y’know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm,” Misumi says absently. It’s reassuring to hear Kazu say that there will be an end to this. It makes things a little more bearable, to think that there will be an end to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They want me to display some stuff at this gallery in the next town over, next month,” Kazu says, “so I’ll be there for a couple of days. Will you come with me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me?” Misumi asks, looking up at Kazu. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, you!” Kazu says, “who else would I bring with me, hm? It’ll be nice to get away for a little bit, don’t you think?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Misumi agrees, “that would be nice.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misumi had decided, a long time ago, that he was going to be himself, and be happy. That despite everything, he was going to love the things he loved wholeheartedly, and not care what anyone else thought. He’s spent too much time trying to force himself into being someone else, with no result, to waste more precious time being anything less. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes, though, he still wishes he was someone different. If he had seriously pursued acting like Juza or Tenma, if he had gone to college like Madoka, if he had done a million other things differently, would that be easier? If he was someone who Kazu could introduce with pride, instead of just himself, Ikaruga Misumi, wouldn’t that be better? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misumi is watching a play unfold in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kazu, the protagonist, is surrounded by admirers and fellow artists, people who can understand him and speak easily with him as they move around the gallery. Kazu’s charisma sets the mood for all of them, putting everyone at ease and lifting them up as easily with his words as he does with his art. He’s much more confident now than he was the first time Misumi had come with him to a gallery, and the way his face lights up as he recognizes another person flocking to his light, or as he breaks out into laughter, only underscores how much he’s in his element here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Tsuzuru were writing this play, what would Kazu’s trajectory be? If his grandfather were writing this play, what would Misumi’s role be? What part would he play, in the scenes that orbit Kazu? Is he the co-lead? Or is he a minor character, a support character thrust into Kazu’s path in a  brief--important, perhaps, but brief--moment? Is this the part where he starts to drift away, fading as Kazu grows brighter?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe, Kazu is the one moving away, his energy and momentum growing with his light, and Misumi is the one who is staying still, unable to keep up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kazu shines, Misumi thinks. He’s like the shiniest, most luminescent triangle, a light that people are drawn to. Wouldn’t it be easier, better, if Misumi was alight like that as well to fly besides him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Misumi,” Izumi says, “we’re happy to have you stay for dinner, but shouldn’t you let Kazunari-kun know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah...I did!” Misumi says brightly, his eyes meeting hers. He hasn’t. But Kazu won’t be home for dinner again, probably, and Misumi has grown to hate the sound of their silent apartment. And Mankai may not be the same Mankai he’d lived in, but Izumi and Sakyo are still there, and it still leaves him with the same warm, loving feeling. All his favorite triangles are still here, and the flowers Tsumugi had planted, and the smell of Izumi’s curry. The current troupe members are kind and talented, and no one knows him well enough to know when he’s lying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izumi, who has watched Misumi bloom a hundred times on stage, and knows exactly what he looks like when he’s acting, does, though--but she doesn’t say anything, for which Misumi is grateful. Maybe he’s come here because he needs someone like Izumi, who had always been a source of support for him in the past and could put him gently back on the right track. Maybe what Misumi is waiting for is an answer to a question he’s just started to understand in his brain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not a question of fear, not like he’d originally thought. It has fear’s familiar pang of hurt, but it’s different, fear’s more sour cousin, doubt. He’s doubting himself, and the choices he’s made. He’s doubting who he is, in relation to Kazu, but more than that, he’s doubting who he is in relation to himself. Maybe that’s the real reason he’s here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though the faces aren’t the ones he’s familiar with, dinner at the newest Mankai Company is just as fun and loud as it has always been, and Misumi laughs so hard he almost falls off his chair. Sakyo’s glare and Izumi’s curry are the same, and if Misumi closes his eyes, it’s almost like those days are back again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He offers to help with the dishes, but is chased off, and instead, wanders his way up to his favorite spot on the roof, which is dustier than usual--no one has inherited his or Hisoka’s preference for rooftop moongazing, it seems. He leans back against the roof, letting the sounds of below and the sound of the sky rush over him, until there is a rustling noise that makes him open his eyes again, turning to see Izumi, with a plate of onigiri and some blankets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Director!” Misumi says, jumping up to take the blankets from her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you might be up here,” Izumi says, sitting down and accepting the blanket Misumi spreads open for her. Misumi sits down, and takes an onigiri, his favorite. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one ever comes up here anymore,” Izumi continues, taking an onigiri for herself as well, “sometimes I do kind of miss it, looking up and seeing you up here. Ah, it’s a lot less nerve wracking, though. I was convinced you were going to fall and break your leg, or Hisoka was going to fall asleep and roll right off the edge, or Tsumugi would slip as he was coming down.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ehh, we were always careful!” Misumi protests, and Izumi laughs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, I know,” she says, “but it’s a director’s job to worry about her actors.” At that, Misumi looks down at his hands, at the onigiri that still sits in his hands, uneaten. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Director…” Misumi says, slowly, “do you think I made a mistake when I stopped acting?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think you made a mistake?” Izumi asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to act,” Misumi says, “but I also wanted to do other things. Acting is one of my precious treasures, and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn’t want it to become an obligation, or a burden. I didn’t want to become my f--” He closes his mouth, abruptly. He thinks of Madoka, staring at a blank sheet of paper. He thinks of himself, sitting in the garden because no one wants him. He thinks of his grandfather’s office, and the stacks and stacks of manuscripts he had left behind, a finite number of words that pressed an innumerable weight onto their family. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But…” Misumi continues, “what if I picked wrong? Kazu’s been chasing his dreams all this time, and he’s so amazing. What if I picked wrong?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Regret, huh?” Izumi says, turning to look up at the moon. It shines back on her face, glowing--a different kind of illumination than sunlight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish I was someone else,” Misumi blurts out, “an actor, or a writer like Madoka or Jii-chan, I wish I was someone who could match Kazu’s path! I wish I had something to offer him that isn’t just...me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Misumi-kun,” Izumi says, and Misumi can hear the shock in her voice. She leans over, the edge of the blanket in hand, and raises it up to his face, dabbing at his cheeks--he’s crying, he thinks, dripping round tears onto his onigiri. Tears are round because they’re the opposite of triangles. Unhappy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Misumi-kun,” Izumi repeats, her voice gentle, and she asks, “are you happy?” Misumi is silent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s natural to wonder about what might have been,” she says, “if you should have done this, or that. You stopped acting because it was the right decision for you at that time. That doesn’t mean that it will be the right decision for you forever. You might decide that you do want to start again, or do something else. But whatever you decide, you should do it because you want to. Because it will make you happy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what if that’s not enough?” Misumi asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course we can’t be sure what will happen in the future,” Izumi says, “but I can say this for certain: Kazunari cares about you very much, Misumi-kun. He cares about you as you are right now, just as you are. Kazunari-kun isn’t the type of person who would throw you away just because he’s getting a little success, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm,” Misumi nods, slowly. Kazu is always kind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Believe in that Kazunari,” Izumi says, reaching out to adjust the blanket between them, “and believe in yourself, too, Misumi-kun.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s later than expected, when Misumi finally leaves Mankai and goes home. Unexpectedly, Kazu is home when he arrives, looking both relieved and frustrated at Misumi’s arrival.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sumi, where have you been?” Kazu asks, “I’ve been trying to call you all night!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh?” Misumi blinks, feeling around for his phone, before finally finding it in his back pocket, accidentally set onto silent. The screen lights up, revealing a number of texts and missed calls from Kazu. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, oops,” Misumi says, with a sheepish smile, “sorry, Kazu…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jeez,” Kazu sighs, “I was really worried, y’know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry...” Misumi repeats again, trailing off as he looks at the phone in his hand. Kazu made his background, a compilation of their selfies together, interspersed with triangles. Misumi knew that Kazu’s own phone background matched, and although Kazu took thousands of good pictures and his Insta page was constantly growing with them, his phone background had never changed from the one that matched with Misumi’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kazu is kind. Kazu loves Misumi. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misumi takes a deep breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kazu,” he says, “I’m not happy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not sure what kind of reaction he was expecting, or what kind of reaction he was hoping for. But whatever it is, it’s not the shadow that crosses over Kazu’s face, before settling into a neutral mask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you...tell me why?” Kazu asks, slowly, his voice even. He doesn’t move towards Misumi, the way he might have normally. Misumi wants to hug Kazu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad Kazu is doing so well,” Misumi says, “I’m happy that Kazu gets to share your art with everyone, and that everyone loves your art. I’m glad you’re meeting so many people who understand you. Kazu is so talented. I’m happy that everyone knows that.” He looks at Kazu, whose face is still neutral, like he doesn’t know what Misumi wants to hear. But all Misumi has ever wanted to hear is what Kazu wants to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I enough? Just like this, can I keep up with you, Kazu? I can’t stop thinking about it. Everyone--everyone is moving forward, towards the future, and you are too. But...please don’t leave me behind, Kazu. Am I being selfish if I ask that?” Misumi gives a little shaky smile, the most he can muster up right now. Kazu is silent, for another moment, and then slowly, extends his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sumi,” Kazu says, “come with me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misumi takes his hand, and Kazu interlaces their fingers together. He leads them down the hall, to the dining room, where there are candles and plates arranged in what is clearly supposed to be a romantic dinner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh?” Misumi says, blinking, “Kazu, did you--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold on, okay?” Kazu says, interrupting, and he smiles at Sumi, a softer, warmer smile, “let me get this out.” He turns to face Misumi, taking his other hand in his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Kazu says, bowing his head penitently, “I didn’t mean to make you doubt yourself, Sumi. You’re the most important person to me. Always have been, always will be. Everything I’ve been able to accomplish is because you’ve been there besides me, cheering me on. I’d been wondering what I could give back to you, to thank you for everything you pour everything into me. Do you know how amazing you are, Sumi? Do you know how many times you’ve rescued me, over and over again? You give me so much, and ask for so little in return.” He lets go of one of Misumi’s hands, digging through his pocket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had this whole big plan for how I was gonna do this, but it’s not important now,” Kazu says, and looks Misumi in the eyes, “Because, you’re the most important person in my life. Sumi, will you marry me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Misumi looks down at Kazu’s hand, where he’s holding a ring box--with a ring, covered with sparkling triangles. Misumi looks at the ring, and then back at Kazu, and then back at the ring again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kazu!” Misumi cries, and flings himself at Kazu, into a hug that knocks both of them over--but it’s fine, because they are both laughing, and smiling, and Misumi is so, so happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kazu cancels all his appointments for the next day, and for what feels like the first time in weeks, Misumi wakes up next to Kazu, still asleep in bed. The sunlight that filters through their windows throws little light triangles across their bedroom, one landing on Kazu’s cheek, while the others spill across the sheets and onto the floor. Misumi lifts his hand up, and the ring that sparkles on it, three perfect triangle diamonds nestled next to each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm, I designed it just for you, you know,” Kazu says sleepily, shifting instinctively towards Misumi’s body heat. Misumi lowers his hand to pull Kazu in close, Kazu’s head nestling into Misumi’s shoulder as his arms go around Kazu, hugging tightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It has lots of triangles,” Misumi says, appreciatively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what you asked for,” Kazu replies, voice slow and thick with drowsiness. It’s more than that--it’s everything Kazu knows about what Misumi likes, put together in a way that only Kazu could, with his unique vision and artistic style. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Kazu,” Misumi says, shifting to press a kiss into Kazu’s hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sumi,” Kazu replies, and tilts his face up to meet Misumi’s in a real kiss, and as their bodies shift together, the sunlight triangles fall over their intertwined hands.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i've just been yelling 'SOFT MISUKAZU' nonstop at lily this whole week.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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